


The King's Entourage

by runawayballista



Series: The Diamondflame War [2]
Category: Baten Kaitos
Genre: Gen, History Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawayballista/pseuds/runawayballista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Y909] Fearing war, the King of Diadem goes to the Duchess of Mira for counsel, and one of his squires gets more than she bargained for in Nekton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King's Entourage

The helmet was stifling. As a squire, Tsubame had little occasion to wear the full dress of a knight. But standing at attention aboard the Mindeer, bound for Mira on a diplomatic mission, she was dressed in full armor like the knights around her. The helmet was hot and heavy, and she could feel little pinpricks of sweat beading on her scalp, begging to be itched.

She was one of only two squires on board. King Evrakahn’s entourage was small, and Tsubame would hardly have thought there would be room for her and Cumoly. But Dame Uzlaly had said they’d shown promise as knights, real promise, and that this would be a valuable experience for them. Something about her tone, though, had made Tsubame nervous.

There was talk of a war. Relations between Diadem and Alfard had grown increasingly tense in the last few years. Although, as far as Tsubame could gather, things had been a little uncomfortable ever since Emperor Tyreus had been elected. Some of his policies were unpopular with minds even beyond the borders of Alfard. That had been why her parents had left Azha, after all. But a war? Surely that was just needless fear-mongering. A little political tension didn’t cause a war — did it?

But it was fear of war that brought King Evrakahn to Mira. Relations between Mira and Diadem had always been more than friendly. Evrakahn sought counsel with the Duchess — a wise ruler, and one the King of Diadem certainly looked up to. If anyone could help them avoid war, it was Duchess Astor.

“Looking awful serious there, aren’t you?”

Tsubame started slightly, shaken from her thoughts. The senior knight she’d been apprenticed to was leaning on his spear, his mottled gray beard rustled by a smile. “Come on, don’t look so grim. There aren’t a lot of knights who get to say they’ve seen the Trail of Souls!”

“Oh — no, it’s not that.” Tsubame shook her head, and immediately regretted the action. Her helmet, just a little too big for her head, rattled like a kettle struck with a spoon. “It’s just — Sir Marello, do you really think there’s going to be a war?”

Marello’s face darkened slightly. “Don’t say that so loud,” he chastised her. “There’s no use in upsetting anybody.”

“Still,” Tsubame persisted. “I’ve heard…rumors. Some of the knights back home think something’s going to happen. After all, that’s why we’re going to Mira, isn’t it?”

“That’s a problem for the kings and politicians to worry about, not us knights.” Marello tugged lightly at his beard, his face grim. “I wouldn’t think too hard about the rumors you hear in the training field anyway. Some people are a little too chatty.”

“I don’t think a war would be so bad.” Cumoly nudged his way in between them, his spear a little too close to Tsubame’s face than she was generally comfortable with. Gangly and at least a full head taller than his fellow squire, Cumoly was the particular brand of ungraceful that stemmed from a simple lack of self-awareness. Tsubame inched away from the spear threatening her personal space. “That’s what we’re for, isn’t it? We’re knights! War is our thing!” His head bobbed emphatically, his narrow chin jutting over the under-strap of his helmet.

“Watch yourself, young man,” Marello said sharply, knocking Cumoly’s spear back into place with his own. “Enough with that talk — you’re hardly ready for war. And mind your weapon! You’ll take someone’s eye out. Now get back into formation, and keep that unruly trap of yours shut. Remember yourself!”

Looking sulkily chastised, Cumoly shuffled back into place. “We’ll face the future as it comes, Tsubame,” said Marello, holding his spear upright. “War or no war — we protect our king. That’s the true way of the knights of Diadem.”

===

The Trail of Souls was dizzying. Tsubame’s gut was still churning when the Mindeer came to a graceful halt at the port of Mira. The leering lights winking at them from the darkness only added to the lurking sensation Tsubame got that the ground beneath their feet was just slightly off-kilter, causing her to stumble slightly as they began the march to Balancoire. She couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to live here. As they passed Parnasse, the cloying sweet smells hanging stickily in the air, Cumoly stumbled out of formation to be sick into a cluster of curiously shimmering bushes. Tsubame couldn’t help but feel a little grateful that she wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough time through the Trail of Souls.

“None of that, Cumoly!” Dame Uzlaly said briskly. “At attention!”

Tsubame found the way the twinkling darkness of the continent blended effortlessly into the gentle light of Balancoire confusing to the eye. Staring too long at it made her head hurt. Once they had entered the city, however, she found herself at ease. Although the sky shimmered with colors unlike those in the skies of Diadem, it was almost like being on a proper island again. The gentle, familiar sound of the water running through the canal was soothing. Tsubame drew in a long breath of fresh air, tinged with the scent of some nameless flower, and they marched on to the the Duchess’ estate.

Although Mira had no real military to speak of, the Duchess had a small bevy of guards at her disposal. Two of them stood at the gates of her estate, as straight and stiff as if they were propped up by invisible poles. Their axes, held at the ready, seemed largely decorative, and heavy at that. Tsubame wondered to herself what the point of a weapon was if it was no use in hurting someone.

One of the guards gave a barely imperceptible nod to Dame Uzlaly, and the gates trudged open with a quiet, long creak. With Dame Uzlaly at the lead, King Evrakahn and his entourage of knights marched up to the estate.

They were greeted by another pair of guards at the doors, who guided them into the mansion. Inside, everything was smooth marble and brilliant, reflective glass. It wasn’t half the size of Castle Elnath — but then, its only resident was the Duchess. Still, everything in the foyer spoke of grace and elegance of the kind Tsubame had never known. While Evrakahn and his entourage waited in the foyer for the arrival of the Duchess, Tsubame marveled at how clear her reflection was in the carefully polished floor.

It was the echoing clack of heels that signified the Duchess’s entrance. She swept into the room, all simple elegance and natural grace. The cut of her gown was more businesslike than decorative, august in its modesty of design, though its color was a lush purple that spoke volumes of her status. Her graying hair was swept up and pinned neatly, not a hair out of place. She was all clean lines and rich colors, and when she smiled at Evrakahn, the room simply stopped.

It recovered itself quickly enough. The Duchess extended her hand to the King, who took it in his own and gently kissed it.

“Your Grace,” murmured the King, his voice grave. “Thank you for hosting us.”

“You know it’s always a pleasure, Evrakahn. Please, you know there’s no need to be so formal.” With one sweeping cast of her eyes, she surveyed the entourage. “Will your knights be joining us in audience?”

“If you don’t mind, Astor. There’s no reason to exclude them, and I value Dame Uzlaly’s input on such matters.” He glanced over his shoulder at his knights. Tsubame thought there was a grim cast to his eyes.

Another pair of guards led them into a private room to hold audience. Unlike the lustrous foyer, the private room had walls painted a soft white, tastefully decorated not with mirrors but aged, stately portraits in frames that probably cost more than Tsubame’s yearly salary. Their footsteps were immediately muffled by the soft carpet, its color a deep, emerald green which contrasted deeply with the hem of the Duchess’s gown as it swept across the floor.

The King’s entourage shuffled into formation behind Evrakahn, the clank and clang of their armored footsteps muted by the carpet. Astor took her seat in one of the delicately carved chairs and gestured warmly for Evrakahn to take the one opposite her. His ceremonial armor clanked gently as he sat, sweeping his cape out from under him.

A tray with finely crafted teacups and teapot was set out on the table between them. Astor gestured with a finely manicured hand. “I’m afraid it’s not the cloud-brewed tea you’re so fond of, Evrakahn, but it’ll have to do, I’m sure. Dame Uzlaly, would you care for some tea?”

Uzlaly’s hard features shaped themselves into a smile, and she gave a slight shake of her head. “Thank you, Your Grace, but I’m quite all right.”

“If you insist.” The Duchess lifted a teacup to her lips and took a delicate sip. “Now, Evrakahn. What was it you wanted to discuss?”

“I think you know, Duchess.” Evrakahn’s face was grim as he cradled his own teacup. His hands, lithe and long-fingered, dwarfed the small piece of china, but he held it as delicately as the Duchess did her own.

Astor pursed her lips, looking down at her teacup. “My dear Evrakahn — I hope you don’t expect me to get involved in this arms race between Diadem and Alfard, do you? More than that, I’m not sure what you expect Mira to do. We’re hardly a military nation. Oh, we could hold our own, I suppose, but — what, exactly, is it that you came for?”

“I came for your guidance.” Evrakahn’s gaze was unyielding. “Tensions are rising, Astor. Everyone can see it. This arms race you speak of — I fear it may escalate. I don’t wish for a war, but — at this rate…”

“Have you tried meeting with Emperor Tyreus, instead?” Astor suggested archly.

“It seems the Emperor is a very busy man,” Evrakahn said coolly. “Please, Duchess. There’s no need for that.”

“It just seems to me,” said the Duchess, “that you’re looking for answers in the wrong place, Evrakahn. After all, what must the other nations think when the King of Diadem comes to Mira for advice, like a child to his mother?”

Tsubame could feel her skin prickle as the heat of the room rose. The Duchess and the King were old friends, but their words spoke of nothing but unwanted tension. Neither seemed pleased. She felt the urge to step back, as though she were standing before a fire that had suddenly become too hot.

Evrakahn was silent. Astor sighed and placed her cup back on the tray.

“I’m sorry, Evrakahn. I didn’t mean to be unkind. But I’m not sure what advice you hope I’m going to give you. This is an issue between Diadem and Alfard. You need to arrange a meeting between yourself and Tyreus, however…slippery he may be, or it _will_ escalate. It’s as simple as that.”

“No, it’s not. And what would a meeting with him accomplish, anyhow? It’s not as if his motives are unclear. As if he’d _stop_.”

“Stop _what_? His research? Alfard has just as much of a right to develop new technology as any of us, you know.”

“Weapons technology?”

“Well, it _is_ an arms race.”

“Diadem simply responded to what we could only perceive as a threat, Astor,” Evrakahn said hotly. “When Tyreus began exploiting his _own people_ and building up resources out of the blue — ”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Astor said, a trace of bitterness to her voice. “Don’t make this a social cause, Evrakah. It’s not about Azha and it never was. If you were concerned that Tyreus was overstepping his bounds, then as a king, you should have acted accordingly.”

“As opposed to _what_?”

“As opposed to childishly building up your own military in response to an imaginary threat, instead of approaching Alfard to solve what _might_ be a problem!”

Duchess Astor’s accusation rang sharply in the air. Tsubame swallowed, the anxiety building up slowly as she watched the exchange. So there _was_ talk of a war. The King was worried. She couldn’t say that was any comfort to her.

The King took slow, measured breaths through his nose, his jaw set. He licked his lips, as though they were dry, and delivered an unwavering gaze at the Duchess. “You think the threat was _imaginary_?”

“I think that if there is any threat at all, then you’ve made it real for all of us.” Astor’s voice wasn’t cold or scathing, just hard.

“You think I acted childishly!”

“I think that if you wanted to solve a problem, your first step should have been to go to Tyreus himself! You’re a king, for gods’ sake, not a little boy playing toy soldier! Only now you’ve got your war, your _unavoidable war_ , and you’ve already done everything to ensure it’s going to happen — and now you come to me for _advice_! What do you want me to say, Evrakahn? You’re determined to go to war. You won’t have it any other way!”

There was no tension between them anymore, just the stab of unbridled anger and the tang of disappointment. Tsubame found it unbearable. Evrakahn sat his teacup down on its saucer with an audible _clink_ and rose to his feet. “I think,” he said, as steadily as he could, “that perhaps we ought to take a short recess. Dame Uzlaly, if you would?”

“Of course, my liege.” Uzlaly turned to the knights, and Tsubame could see the sweat glistening on her brow. Standing so close to the exchange, she must have felt the brunt of its heat. “Knights. Exit.”

As one unit, the King’s entourage blindly turned and marched out of the audience room and back into the foyer. The mirrors everywhere were now nothing but dizzying to Tsubame, like the winking darkness of the Trail of Souls. The door swung quietly closed behind them, and Dame Uzlaly quietly cleared her throat.

“The King and the Duchess will continue the rest of their meeting in private. I will stay on with the King as his military advisor. The rest of you are free to have the rest of the day to yourselves, although I advise that you don’t stray too far. Sir Marello, Sir Onat, I leave you two in command in my absence. Please feel free to take a look around the island. And knights,” she added, her voice edged, “I trust you all on your discretion on this matter.”

Tsubame personally felt that trusting Cumoly to be discreet with anything was possibly a mistake. The estate guards showed the knights outside, Marello and Onat taking up the rear. Tsubame felt a little sick in the pit of her belly. She didn’t want a war — not now, possibly not ever. She hadn’t joined the knights to go to war. She’d joined to make a respectable living for her family, who had moved all the way from Azha just to give her a better life. She was only sixteen. She didn’t want to go to war.

It was Sir Marello’s voice that shook her out of her thoughts. “All right, troops — you heard the Head Knight.” His booming voice was somehow soothing to Tsubame, an almost automatic effect. In the four years since she’d been apprenticed to him, she’d come to think of him as a kind of grandfather figure. He’d been good to her, and she couldn’t help but find the sound of his voice soothing. “It’s personal time, but keep it professional. Don’t wander too far, and don’t embarrass the King. I expect His Majesty and Dame Uzlaly will be done by sunset, so if you haven’t heard word by then, we regroup at port. _No one_ is late. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Their voices rang out like a chorus.

“Good. Knights, you are dismissed.” Sir Marello beamed at the knights as they dispersed, the meticulous attentiveness melting away from their postures. He caught Tsubame lightly by the shoulder as she passed. “Tsubame. What I said on the Mindeer still holds true. War or no war.”

Tsubame merely nodded, still feeling a little green around the edges. “Ah, and one more thing,” added Sir Marello quickly, before she could go. “Go with Cumoly, will you? I don’t trust that boy on his own. See to it that he keeps a solid head on his shoulder.”

Tsubame decided against voicing her dismay, but it must have shown on her face, because the senior knight only chuckled and clapped her on the shoulder. “It’s not all bad,” he said. “You’re going to have to learn to trust each other on the battlefield. Isn’t a little bit of free time together a good start? Now go on. You have yourselves a good time.”

“Yes, sir,” Tsubame said, keeping as much of the sigh out of her voice as possible. Recalling her spear into its Magnus, she sought out Cumoly, who had already headed down the path leading away from the estate. Jogging up to him, she reached up and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Waaugh!” Startled, Cumoly spun about, flailing his spear. Tsubame narrowly avoided being knocked upside the head.

“Hey! Put that away, will you?” She straightened her helmet, a tad annoyed. “Sir Marello said to go with you. We have to stick together today.”

“Huh? Why?” Cumoly fumbled for his weapon Magnus, nearly dropping his spear in the process. Tsubame sighed and took it from him while he searched for the blank Magnus. He never seemed to have any of his fantails in a row.

“I don’t know. He wants the squires to stick together, I guess.” Tsubame shrugged. “So. Shall we go into town?”

“I guess. I could use a bite.” Cumoly scratched at the chinstrap of his helmet. “Plus, I wanted to find a hograt! I hear they’re everywhere around here.”

“A…hograt?” Tsubame fell into step beside him, which proved to be a bit challenging, considering his legs had to have been twice as long as hers. “What do you need a hograt for? I mean, if you’re really that hungry, I could lend you some coin…”

“What? Oh, no. It’s not like that!” Cumoly shook his head furiously. Tsubame envied the way it didn’t rattle in the slightest. “No, I was…going to bring it back to my sister. For a pet.” He looked sheepish at admitting it. “She’s been really wanting one, you know, and my mom doesn’t like birds, so I thought…well, maybe a hograt, since they’re small and will eat just about anything…”

“Oh!” The exclamation carried more than a little relief. “Oh, I see. Well, how do you expect to bring it back with you?”

“Oh, I brought a little cage for it,” Cumoly said brightly, obviously very proud of his clever thinking. “I’ve got it in a Magnus here somewhere.”

“Are you sure Sir Onat will be okay with you bringing a caged animal back on the Mindeer with you?” Tsubame prodded. “Or Dame Uzlaly, at that. I mean, it’s…hardly official, is it? We’re here on diplomatic business.”

Cumoly’s face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.

“I thought not.” The gentle sound of the river reached their ears as they headed into town, soothing Tsubame’s nervous mind. “I’m sure it’ll be all right, though,” she added after a moment. “But I wouldn’t make a big fuss about it, if I were you. Keep it under wraps.”

The other squire bobbed his head in agreement, confidence filling his frame once again. Tsubame couldn’t help but admire the ease at which he picked himself back up. He might not have been the brightest trainee, but it was hard to stay annoyed with him for _too_ long.

They found themselves soon drawn to a food cart selling fried glubberfish balls, the pungent aroma wafting its way through the town square. It was a little taste of home, even though they hardly a long way away. Tsubame would have liked to try something new, but she was too hungry to be picky. It wasn’t until they’d gotten the paper-wrapped glubberfish balls that she realized, underneath the nervous, ill feeling in her stomach, that she was starving. Without hesitation, she wolfed them down, failing to keep the tangy sauce from smearing around her mouth.

“I guess knight training doesn’t extend to table manners, huh?”

The hairs on the back of Tsubame’s neck prickled at the familiar teasing voice. Hastily wiping her mouth with the greasy paper, she spun on her heel to see a red-haired merchant, a few years older than her, standing with his own cart of wares from the Empire. His bright eyes creased with a grin, and he waggled his fingers at her.

“You missed a spot, brave squire,” he said, a chuckle just beneath the surface of his voice. “Or are you a knight now? Ooh, so grown up. Look at all that armor!”

Quickly swallowing her last mouthful of fried glubberfish, she gave him an impatient glare. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? Well, I go where the business takes me. I _am_ a traveling merchant, you know.” He gave a cursory glance at Cumoly, who was still munching on the fried glubberfish balls. “I think the bigger question is what are _you_ doing here? Two knights of Diadem, eating street food in Balancoire? Now that’s a sight to see.”

“We’re — we’re not knights yet,” Tsubame admitted begrudgingly. “We’re here with the King and some other knights, on…business.”

“Oh, really? What kind of business?”

“None of _yours_ ,” Tsubame said curtly, standing up straight. Finishing up the last of his food, Cumoly cast a curious glance at the merchant.

“Who’s he? A friend of yours?”

“No,” Tsubame said quickly. “He’s just a merchant I’ve met a few times when he was peddling junk in Sheliak.”

“The name’s Linero,” said the merchant, still grinning. “And I most certainly am not a _junk peddler_. I sell only the finest the Empire has to offer.” He gestured widely to his cart, which was covered in small gadgets made of brass and glass. “For instance! These are the very latest spyglasses produced by Alfard gadgeteers. You can see clear across the sky with them!”

Tsubame rolled her eyes as Cumoly began to examine the spyglasses with interest. “Don’t buy into his spiel. It’s garbage. My mother bought an iron kettle from him once. The spout fell clean off a week later!”

“That was a manufacturer’s defect,” Linero said, without missing a beat. “If you’d taken it back to me I would have replaced it — or refunded you fully!”

“Yeah, and by then you’d skipped town!”

“You could have written a letter, you know. I could have sent it by post.”

“To _who_?”

“The Mintaka Board of Commerce?” Linero suggested innocently, but his eyes positively glittered.

“I don’t know about tea kettles, Tsubame, but you have got to check this out!” Cumoly had picked up a spyglass and was looking through it curiously, swiveling around to get a look at the city. “I can see as far as — whoa!” He put the spyglass down with an excited jump.

“Hey, careful, don’t manhandle the merchandise!” Linero carefully polished the fingerprints off the spyglass and placed it carefully back on the cart. Cumoly, however, had shifted his attention to something new. Lowering himself to a crouch, he crept toward a nearby bush.

“I see one, Tsubame,” he hissed. “It’s right…there…”

“See _wh_ — ” Tsubame started, when a small brown blur shot from the bush and straight through Cumoly’s legs. Chittering animatedly, it wove a path around Tsubame and ran.

“The hograt! I’m gonna catch it!” Nearly tripping on his own feet, Cumoly straightened himself and made a mad dash for the escaping rodent, which was headed for the opposite end of town. Tsubame shook her hands after him in disbelief.

“Cumoly, no! Sir Marello said not to run off! Hey! Get _back here_!”

Linero finally let a few laughs slip out, unable to contain them anymore. Tsubame glared at him again, hesitating for just a moment, and then took off after her fellow squire.

“ _Cumoly_!”

Unfortunately, a few moments’ hesitation had given Cumoly a considerable lead. For all his clumsiness, when it came to running, there were few who could compete with Cumoly’s long, gangly legs. Tsubame, considerably shorter, was not similarly blessed, and running in a full set of knight’s armor was no small feat. Beads of sweat that had been waiting just beneath her skin all day finally sprang up as she ran, slowly soaking through her underclothes.

She cursed breathlessly to herself. Cumoly had blindly followed the hograt out of Balancoire, and he was chasing it into gods knew where. How was a pet for his sister worth this much trouble? There had to be dozens of those things running around! But the hograt was hell bent on running for the hills which lay to the north of the city.

Tsubame did her best to ignore the wavering darkness that danced around her peripheral vision once she left the city. She could make out Cumoly up ahead, running toward what looked like a dense forest. It looked dark and foreboding from where she stood. She cursed again, and tried to yell to him once more, but it was no use. He probably couldn’t even hear her, at this point. The curious darkness that enshrouded Mira had a strange way of muffling sound.

He was in for a real thrashing once she caught up to him, that was for sure. He’d be lucky not to hear it from Dame Uzlaly herself, for ignoring the few orders they’d been given, and Tsubame couldn’t imagine that she’d be feeling in too charitable a mood once the meetings with the Duchess were over. Up ahead, Cumoly disappeared into the cover of the forest.

“ _Cumoly_!!”

Tsubame staggered into the forest, slowing to a halt. Her labored breathing filled her ears, drowning out the quiet chirps and rustles of the forest air. Where just minutes ago in Balancoire it had been midday, here it may as well have been midnight. Curious lights danced about the air, casting a soft glow here and there. It was eerie, though not in the deeply upsetting way of the Trail of Souls. It was somehow…peaceful here.

The air here was cool and damp, for which Tsubame was thankful. She dabbed at her face with a handkerchief, wiping away the sweat that had begun to drip into her eyes. After a moment’s thought, she withdrew her spear from its Magnus. In a place like this, there was no telling what kind of monsters might lurk in the shadows.

“Cumoly! Where are you?” Her voice seemed to reach only as far as the surrounding trees. They seemed to curl at the top, as if reaching to form a cover over the forest and drown out the moonlight. “I hope you’ve caught that stupid hograt by now, because there’s no _way_ you’re not going to get a scolding from Sir Onat!”

The forest swallowed up all sound. She began to doubt that Cumoly could hear her, and as she wandered through its labyrinthine paths, she doubted also that she would even find him. “Maybe I should just go back to town and tell Sir Onat,” she muttered to herself, keeping her eyes ahead. “Maybe then _I_ won’t get in trouble, too…”

She heard a breath rush past her ear. Alarmed, she turned sharply, looking around.

“Who’s there?!”

Only the silence of the forest and its twinkling lights answered back. Tsubame tried to steady her breathing.

There was mud on the ground, probably from recent rainfall. It made the going tough, and it was difficult to keep her footing steady on the slick mud. In this much armor, she wasn’t confident about how easily she’d be able to get up if she fell. She kept on calling Cumoly, though with less and less energy as the minutes — hours? — dragged on. Time seemed to have lost its meaning here.

She kept hearing something flit past her ear, a rush of quiet sound or the echo of a voice. It startled her every time, setting her fraying nerves on edge, and though she tried to convince herself it must have just been some kind of bug, she didn’t once hear the buzz of insect wings. As she trudged around the forest in what she was convinced were nothing but meandering circles, the dancing lights seemed to grow brighter, or maybe it was just that she was seeing more of them. As she walked under the mottled moonlight, she could have sworn she heard a distant laugh. Cumoly? No, it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been — she’d have heard footsteps.

“Cumoly, come on! We’re both going to really hear it from Dame Uzlaly now! Just give up on the hograt already, okay? We should really get…going…”

Tsubame’s voice grew small as she stumbled into a small clearing in the forest. At its center were a whole host of the flickering balls of light, swarming and dancing around one another, such that they seemed to form a single, writhing sphere of light. Tsubame’s eyes widened even as she lifted a hand to shield them from its bright glow. She’d seen some magic before, but never anything like this. The fragments of a voice she’d been telling herself were just mosquitoes grew louder, impossible to ignore. She felt drawn in, like the very wind was sucked from her lungs. Even as she approached the dancing ball of light, she struggled to breathe. A rushing sound filled her ears, her head, and everything went dark.

===

_Hey._

_Hey, wake up._

_Come on, don’t be like that._

_You can hear me, can’t you?_

Her consciousness swam dizzily to the surface of her mind. She felt like she was submerged in murky darkness. Everything felt unbalanced and out of focus, and there was something…there was _someone_ there.

“Who are you?” The words came out before Tsubame had even the time to consider them. A little tinkle of a laugh sounded in her mind.

_Ah, so now you hear me._

“Who are you?” she repeated dumbly. “And why…why am I hearing you in my head?”

 _In your heart_ , it corrected. _You hear me in your heart._ It paused. _You really don’t know, do you? I thought you folk were aware of us._

“Aware of _who_?” As much as she tried to steel her heart, she felt the beginnings of fright digging its claws in. It was strange and it was a little bit scary.

The voice soothed. _Don’t be scared. I mean_ us _— the spirits. I’m a spirit. I’m here, in your heart._

“A spirit? I thought…aren’t they just legends? You know, stories?”

 _Oh, far from it. We are very real._ The voice seemed to have a smile to it. _It’s rare to find someone so compatible. It’s sort of exciting._

“What do you want?”

 _Want?_ It paused again, as if thinking. _That’s a funny question. It’s not really a question of want. It’s more like…fate. I mean, you know the stories, don’t you? I’m here to help, because…well, it’s what we do. It’s what spiriters do. I’m here to be your friend._

She felt a warmth spread within her, friendly and soothing and strangely close. She found she had no more protest to voice. It felt…right. She relaxed.

_A-ha, yes. Now you get it._

She _did_ get it. It was strange — just an implicit understanding, the kind you couldn’t put into words. It had just opened itself in her mind. It was just there.

_Now, won’t you tell me your name?_

“Oh,” Tsubame said, a bit blankly. “Yeah, I’m…Tsubame.”

_Tsubame? What an interesting name. I’m Reveny._

The voice itself seemed…indeterminate, somehow. Tsubame hesitated.

“Reveny,” she said to herself, feeling the sounds on her tongue. “How do I…uh…are you…a he or a she?”

There was a puzzled pause. _I’m sorry?_

“You know,” she said awkwardly. “Are you…a man, or are you a lady spirit?”

There was a small laugh. _That doesn’t really apply._

“What do you mean?”

_I guess you could say I’m not really either. Those distinctions are lost on someone like me._

“Oh.” Tsubame thought about that. It was a strange thing to consider, but far from incomprehensible. “Okay.”

_I’m so glad to have met you, Tsubame. Where I’m from, there’s a saying: if you’re lucky enough to bond with another’s heart, wonderful things are bound to happen to you._

Tsubame smiled to herself. That’s what this felt like — something wonderful.

_You’re going to wake up now, Tsubame. Don’t forget to breathe._

===

Tsubame’s body jolted upright and she sucked in a long, loud, ragged breath, which she immediately coughed out. She sat up, coughing and inhaling desperately, trying to suck down one good lungful of air.

Someone pounded on her back, which only made her helmet rattle. Her vision doubled, swimming back and forth, and she jerked back and forth in an uneven sway as she fought to breathe. “Breathe, Tsubame!” The voice sounded far away. “Jeez, are you okay? Just breathe…come on, you’re all right.”

It was Cumoly’s voice. Her breathing finally settled, Tsubame put a hand to her head and felt mud smeared along the back of her helmet. She was on the ground. “Cumoly?” she croaked.

“Yeah, hey, it’s me. I found you passed out here. What happened?” Cumoly crouched in front of her just as her vision stopped dancing back and forth. He looked concerned. Tsubame fumbled for the words — how did she explain what had just happened?

 _Don’t bother_ , came Reveny’s voice. _It’s wasted on him. You can explain to someone who’ll understand when you get back._

“I…must have slipped in the mud, and fell,” Tsubame lied, slowly. “And…hey! It was because I was chasing you, because you ran off like a stupid twit!”

Cumoly backed up, holding his hands out in self-defense. “Hey, don’t get mad. I didn’t even catch that hograt…”

“Well, isn’t that just fine and dandy,” Tsubame muttered, and slowly hauled herself to her feet. “Look, now I’m all muddy. I was running up and down this place looking for you! It was just a stupid hograt, what did you go off and do that for?”

Cumoly cast his eyes downward, looking uncomfortable. “It was just — I just wanted to bring something back for my sister,” he mumbled. “It would’ve made her so happy.”

Tsubame huffed out a sigh, but she couldn’t bring herself to scold him anymore. “Look, just — let’s just get back, all right? Before anyone gets mad at us.” The last traces of dizziness had worn off now — even the twinkling darkness above seemed to have lost its nauseating effect on her. She bent down and picked up her spear from the mud. “Come on.”

“How are we even going to get back to Balancoire?” said Cumoly miserably. “This place is like a maze.”

 _I know the way out_ , said Reveny. _It’s not too far._

“I think we’ll manage,” Tsubame said, looking up at the moon. “Come on — stand up straight, Cumoly. Let’s go.”


End file.
